Thumper Chase

Thumper Chase believes deep down in his heart of hearts that if you stay pure of spirit - and go fast enough - even the devil himself can't catch you and that somehow sin and misfortune will just roll like raindrops off the back of some sort of awesome, kick-ass duck.

Thumper Chase is an idiot. But he means well. And if he's the one hauling your ass away from a bad crash, through a police barricade, and on to the hospital fucking pronto at 110 mph in an illegally-modified '66 Pontiac GTO… well dammit if a little bit of his reckless optimism might not brighten your day. So shut up and buckle up. That's his tag-line. He's pretty proud of it.

Thumper always wanted to be a cop. Or a bootlegger. Really both. Or maybe an A-Team. He grew up fatherless, glued to the tube, making vroom noises with toy cars while gobbling up TV shows like CHiPs, TJ Hooker, and The Dukes of Hazzard. To this day, Thumper still thinks (or wants to believe) that the world works that way - that it all works out, that villains hang their heads and confess if you can just figure out what they did and confront them, and that the authorities wouldn't really put you away for life if you meant well when you did that stuff that looked like a dozen felonies but was really just to help out your friends. Thumper tried out for the highway patrol right after community college, but his second high-speed pursuit in a week brought the department's civil damage liability to over a quarter mil.

Thumper insists it was only some cars and one news van, and those
nuns and the mayor were fine. And he totally made that jump with the
bridge half-up.

Thumper toils eagerly as a gopher and enforcer for cranky old Rusty Hips Rose. He mostly runs errands in his muscle car at excessive speeds, secretly relishing any excuse to get away from his boss and just drive - fast. But Rose keeps him on a very short leash, nagging out micromanagement and laying on motherly guilt through his incessantly squawking cellphone. She isn't his real mother, but he's so twisted around her nicotine-stained finger that she might as well be. While it's downright painful to witness, Rose's shrewd choke-chain of abuse is probably the only thing that keeps Thumper from getting himself permanently incarcerated or killed.

Thumper has never crossed the theshold and crashed himself, but he wants to in a bad way. He thinks all crashers go down into "The Scootch" to kick Satan in the balls and rescue the souls of big-tittied single moms, and that's fucking awesome. One of these days some crew is going to carelessly cajole him to wriggle out from under Rose's thumb and tag along. Paved with good intentions, such a path is unlikely to end in anything other than a god-damn tragedy.

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